Rev Simpkins & the Phantom Notes - Plough Sunday

Wisdom shows
That down below this snow
Lies lifeless grain
From which the barley grows
Frost turns to dew
As green shoots work through
The cold black clods
For which we praise our God
We went out weeping and sowed
But when we're going home is not ours to know
It's not ours to know when we'll break bread together again
Ice-skimmed streams
Let waters pass unseen
To creep into the creeks
That fold into the sea
Which breathes itself away
And forms the clouds and rain
That waters fruitful sods
For which we praise our God
We went out weeping and sowed
But when we're going home is not ours to know
It's not ours to know when we'll break bread together again
Find me the priest
With her book and her bell
Bring us the ploughshare
To consecrate it well
Bless this blade
Which hard-worn hands have made
To turn the clods
Then, please God, turn our lot
We went out weeping and sowed
And when we're going home is not ours to know
But we'll break bread together again

Written by:
Matthew Simpkins

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find